


Commission Collection

by msmami



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bunny Play, Burnplay, Creampie, Dirty Talk, F/F, Gags, Hair-pulling, Mommy Kink, Scissoring, Slut Shaming, Strap-Ons, Threesome - F/F/F, Trans Female Character, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 17:37:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16877277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmami/pseuds/msmami
Summary: A collection of kinky one shots written for a few anonymous patrons.





	1. Intern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're a rouge agent playing naive intern if it means getting the information you need on Talon. Just make sure your crush on their lead geneticist doesn't throw you off track.

Your role in Talon was nothing to brag about. Among the criminal masterminds and trained terrorists and super soldiers you passed by every day, you were nothing more than a measly intern. Not even a uniform to call your own, forcing you to spend money you didn’t have on laundry you barely had time to dry until your next shift. You knew you’d move up one day-maybe be cleaning toilets in a few weeks with good behavior-but in the meantime your role as Talon’s Errand Girl wasn’t exactly glamorous.

No filing like the secretaries, no calls to take like the receptionists, not even a floor to polish like a janitor-you were the designated random tasks variety of employee. Your most likely occupation? Refreshments.

Even the foulest terrorist organization needed their caffeine and macaroons and you’d be pulling cash out of your bank account at least once a day to appease a multitude of orders. Their appetite for overpriced beverages and tiny sandwiches was only ever outmatched by their taste for corruption and power.

…Or at least, this is what you’d tell yourself before slipping into your newest and most convincing role yet. A well-to-do secret agent like yourself got all the connections and cash they needed from a multitude of clients.

Like the advice you’d give when you pretended to be a therapist, speaking to yourself in the mirror about what attributes you didn’t have proved to be the perfect exercise before becoming the mild-mannered intern of an evil agency.

Your client this time around remained anonymous, as they always did. Not that it mattered who they were, just how much they were willing to pay. Numbers meant more to you than letters and the amount of zeroes that would be filling your bank account once you got your info and dipped almost had you breaking character.

The talented actress you were, you could put your future funds on the back burner, kinda the same way you preferred to put the tea kettle towards the end of the stove in case some bozo unaware of your lack of cooking skills requested you make dinner. You felt more like a maid here than you did five years back when you slipped into the role to deceive a wealthy heir out of their treasures.

You set the stove top to an even flame and restocked the fridge as you waited for the hot chime of a whistle and steam to pull you out of your post grocery shopping routine.

For an organization this size, their kitchen was pitifully tiny. Not that you even knew they had one until you were shoved in there on day one. You’ve only really gotten to know the tiled walls and glossy floors and the contents of a fridge of a cramped little room-not exactly the intel your client was looking for.

Future plans and data for what was supposedly a super weapon in the making was your objective. Getting a hold of it wasn’t anything too hard with your expertise. In the weeks you spent here, even between the grocery runs and tea making, it was surprisingly easy to slip into the cracks of Talon’s best network security. Your hacking skills could be very easily outdone by the playful agent Sombra, as far as those rumors were true, but even she didn’t seem to have caught wind of your scheme.

It was fair to say you were on her good side anyway and the one person you managed to rub the wrong way was no other than Widowmaker, the one who didn’t seem to like anyone and would probably kill you before even thinking about what an inconspicuous flash drive on your keys could be containing.  

The same with Reaper-a guy who looked like he’d much rather be glooming it up in his quarters than snapping your neck. Not drawing attention to yourself would only make matters easier and save your skin-metaphorically and physically judging by the clientele you had to look into before taking the job.

Aside from a hacker, a sniper, a death metal enthusiast, and a built man who could punch a hole in the wall with either of his fists-the one that puzzled you the most was the most accomplished scientist in the council. The others clearly held a position of power and fear here-the gauntlet dude seeming like a head honcho of sorts-but another that you sometimes found by his side at meetings was intimidating in ways you couldn’t help but notice.

The thirst for blood, a sharp intellect, a colorful wardrobe-Dr. Moira O’Deorain was an amalgamation of all the things evil step mothers and wicked witches of west wish they were. Trade out the thick tubes circulating ambiguous purple fluid around her neck for a perched collar and the pointed headpiece for a crown and the effect was nearly identical. With her elegant speech and confident stride, she was like a one-woman monarchy.

It was a sort of grace you didn’t think you’d ever see made flesh, but staring at that jawline and thin pair of lips you’d imagined yourself on the receiving end of one too many times was something you could hardly get way with judging by your rank. Moira was a leading council member after all, no time for the likes of you.

You wouldn’t be getting your info directly from her to begin with, genetics being more her speed and none of the many,

documents you had backed up to your drive teetered away from machinery technobabble she likely had little to do with.

Sombra was the only one who might give you any problems, her being Talon’s main tech guru, but the few times you’ve spoken have been casual enough to not raise suspension. Out of all the agents, she was the most demanding to have her material needs met and yet the easiest to carry a conversation with.

Disregard the shady nature and weird sense of humor and you’d nearly consider her an acquaintance.

She was almost always the one hanging by while you tended to your usual work, not lifting a finger but willing to tear open bags of her requested snacks while you cleaned and restocked the fridge. After a few minutes of her messily consuming a few handfuls of chips, Sombra said. “So Intern, you into her or what?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sombra, we’ve been over this. I respect Moira, doesn’t mean I wanna marry her. Also, my name’s not Intern.”

“Oh-ho-! At least take her to dinner before you put a ring on it.” Sombra chortled, crumbs flying out of her mouth as she completely disregarded the end of your sentence.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s wife material. Or…maybe she thinks you’re wife material. Moira doesn’t really play second fiddle to anyone, if ya read me.”

“Are you done?”

“With this bag of chips? Yes. Pass me the cookies, kay?”

* * *

It was your final day here at Talon and you already had your cards in place for your departure. It would be uneventful compared to your other dramatic exits-no fireworks or suicide note-just what you called the “ghosting” strategy when you leave as quickly as you arrived. No one cares to find you again because you could be easily replaced and it was honestly the cleanest way to back out before things got messy.

Or at least that was how it was supposed to go until Sombra intruded. “Intern! Where are you?”

Damn. “Yes, Sombra? Need anything?”

“Just passing a message along. Old girl couldn’t do it herself.”

“Well I don’t have a lot of time so-”

“Oh, what’s this?”

You looked down at the belt loop that was holding your keys and noticed Sombra was eyeing the tiny trinket, the only real glimmer of personality on the whole thing or your current wardrobe. “Oh, this thing? I got it awhile ago.”

You undid the clasp and handed the keys over to Sombra, suspecting she would have no reason to pry into your flash drive with no context or even a computer port nearby. The item in question was a pastel squish toy shaped like the popular Pachimari icon you had grown attached to recently. Its suction cups were lavender and there was the cutest little line of drool coming out its mouth. It was nothing worth showing off but Sombra seemed impressed nonetheless.

“Aww,  _muy lindo!_ ”

“Yeah I know it’s for kids,” You said. “But I’ve always had a weakness for stuff like this. They’re actually really good stress toys, you know? Don’t tell anyone.”

Sombra chuckled. “I’m a hacker not a blabber mouth.”

Funnily enough, the little trinket wasn’t part of your persona and a genuine item of intrigue. A limited edition Pachimari&Friends collectable you earned in a sweepstakes rather than some shady trading. It was one of few things you owned from pure luck and chance, not the usual grind you had to sentence yourself to.

Money was nice, the clothes lining your closet even better, but this single insignificant thing that served no purpose beyond singing a show tune if squeezed hard enough beat all of that due to pure sentimentality.  

“Oh, _carnela_! Almost forgot, the doc wants to chat with you.”

“Who?”

“Miss Moira herself,” Sombra said, grin already wide across her face. “Something about helping you unload her lab.”

“Is that even one of my responsibilities?”

Sombra shrugged. “I dunno, but I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Damn, and right when you were about to bounce. You supposed Moira wasn’t the worst person to interrupt your departure, but while you were still playing to archetype, you dutifully took the quickest route to her lab, Sombra giving you a thumbs up in the distance.

She must have been thrilled to see you encountering your little crush face to face. Now that you thought about it, maybe you would kinda miss Sombra.

* * *

 When you did arrive to Moira’s lab, the woman in question was sitting back in a computer chair, hand to her chin as she rocked herself back and forth on the heel of her foot. No lab coat or even the elaborate biotic suit you were used to, just a simple white dress shirt and black pants. You didn’t have to stare too long to know Moira wasn’t wearing a bra. It didn’t even seem like a flirting thing, more like Moira didn’t have a need to keep her small but still perky chest contained-

“You wanted to see me?”

“Thank you for coming, intern. I just needed some help arranging some supplies.”

“Are you relocating?”

Moira nodded. “Just a few things. This one is getting a bit too crowded for me and the lab a few doors down has enough space for some of my more wily subjects. It’s a lot to explain.”

“No need to, ma’am. Though I am curious as to why you asked me to come over instead of someone more certified to move furniture.”

Moira smiled. “It’s not that big of a job. I’ll even pay you for it, promise.”

That smirk was all you needed to get to work. It was nothing too strenuous, just some animals in cages that needed to be dropped off in the next room while Moira tinkered away on her computer to back up some personal documents. Nothing that really concerned you.

“Okay, that should be everything. You have quite the collection of pets.”

“Test subjects is the more correct term, but I suppose that isn’t too far off.”

“You said you wanted to pay me for this, right?”

Moira nodded. “Yes, I did. I’m not one to go back on my word.”

“Cool, I could use the money for a cab and…Moira?”

Without breaking eye contact, Moira was undoing the front of her pants to unsheathe not a cunt as wet as your own but a generously sized sex toy. Thick, black, rubber, and catching the overhead lighting on the glossy head and the smirk she wore showed she had full intentions of using it right then and there.

“Ma’am, w-what are you doing?”

“I’m giving you your pay. I thought you might like this a little more, dear.” Moira rubbed the inside of her thigh, teasing her pussy through the fabric of her pants. “Now, don’t leave me exposed like this. It took a lot of planning for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Was she for real? You spent the past few days thinking about how badly you wanted Moira to bend you over a table and yet the actual opportunity felt so detached from your psyche. Well, wasn’t like you’d be seeing her ever again. May as well cease the opportunity.

“Uh…as long as it stays between us.”

“Not a problem,” Moira grabbed the bottle off to her side, undoing the cap slowly before pouring out a long line of fluid. Oh, lube. That’s what that was. Hard to tell what exactly Moira considered worth concealing in a container when she’d probably serve your liver on a platter if she wanted. And the animals you carted out were only debatably still the species they were supposed to be.

A generous amount of lube was coating the strap on now, some of it dripping in thick lines down to her crotch.

“Isn’t that a little much?” You said.

“I wouldn’t want to hurt you, dear. You’re like a deer in headlights right now.” Moira took a few quick strides towards you as she said this, a clawed hand grabbing you by the arm and escorting you to the only clear lab bench, just wide enough to accommodate you and perhaps Moira depending on how far things would be going.

You expected to have yourself thrusted down, belly first onto the table, something you’d gotten used to doing and being on the receiving end of. You hadn’t missed a day on birth control though it was mostly for caution's sake that you much rather take it up your ass. But no, Moira was guiding you to lie on your back and the way she trapped you between her and the lab bench showed she had zero intentions of taking your input.

She’s so tall that it’s not too hard to be intimidated by what little distance there was between you now, trying to keep your breathing steady as she ran a cold and veiny hand down your chest and to the waist of your jeans. You wanted this for awhile, and yet you couldn’t help the anxiety that was bubbling in your gut.

“Ma’am, are you sure you don’t have anywhere else to be? I mean, I think I still have some errands to run.”

“Nonsense, I’m a council member. I could set this room on fire if I wanted and I highly doubt anyone would throw a fuss.” She undid your jean’s zipper and buttons just a little too quickly, tugging your pants down until they fell down to your ankles. “So wet for me…”

She said softly, admiring the slick threatening to run down your thighs. “It’s been awhile so please pardon me if I’m a bit rusty.”

Moira’s cock was completely inside you shortly, filling you up so much you could barely clench your pussy around its girth. You were no virgin, sometimes getting into the pants of your targets was a necessity for your work, but it was rarely ever anything you didn’t prompt.

You could be a master seductress on the fly and a wide-eyed ingenue the next day without skipping a beat. Whatever lured people in, got you what you wanted, whatever role you had to take. You could get lost in your identities sometimes but it was worth it. It was always worth it. But Moira wasn’t even fucking your persona anymore, she was fucking you.

“Short of breath, already? I haven’t even started yet.” Moira pushed you down on the table, your back flat to the cold steel as she lured overhead, hands on either side of your shoulders. She maintained eye contact and that same, unchanging smirk as she pushed in further.

You pursed your lips, trying to keep your mewling under control. Moira still looked pleased with the pathetic whimpers you were making instead as you wriggled around between the table and Moira’s body. Which was more embarrassing to be trapped against was debatable.

“Little whore likes it rough, huh? _Gabh dom níos_ …”

“Wh-What did you…” Before you could utter more of your question, Moira’s body was flush against yours, fake cock as deep as it could possibly go. You couldn’t hold your moan in this time, your eyes squeezing shut as a long and desperate whine shook through you and possibly the walls of the lab. “Fuck-Oh my God, oh fuck-.”

“Always one step ahead, aren’t we? Such arrogance,” Moira whispered into your hair. “Sombra was right about that.”

“Sombra?” You tried to say, your uneven breaths taking any possible coherence out of your statement.

You could barely speak, fingers clumsily trying to cling to whatever solid surface you could find. Your head was already spinning as Moira began to thrash into you, the combination of lube and your own sticky arousal making for easy entry.

Moira was still pressed firmly against you, her nipples prodding against your own through a crisp white shirt. She was getting off to this as much as you were and the grip she had on the situation made you shake with both fear and admiration.

Moira had moved her hands to instead hold onto your wrists, her nose buried into your hair as her lips sucked against the skin of your neck. You could only move your legs from such a position, but even then, that effort was fruitless as they helplessly dangled on either side Moira’s fast hips. Shift your feet even a little and you’d be pushing her cock up to your belly.

You came and you came hard. If it weren’t for Moira’s toy, your orgasm would have probably been airborne. No, that was an exaggeration, but you definitely could feel a steady spray of come and likely something else spurting out of you before coming a pathetic trickle into your asshole. The one thing Moira didn’t bother touching and it still felt it belonged to her.

She took her sweet time pulling out, eye contact maintained as you felt the pressure leave your cunt and Moira’s toy glistening.

“Expected to deceive us, didn’t you? You have to get up pretty early to think Talon hasn’t prepared itself against spies a million times before. You’re no different than the others we’ve…talked out of cover.”

You wanted to respond, you wanted to say anything but your head was swimming and you could only pant and babble to yourself.

“Aren’t we both lucky I was the one next to play the bad cop? Lacroix wouldn’t had been nearly as gentle as I was.”

She must be joking. She had to be.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” Moira said, a finger teasing your clit. “We all have to play double agent sometimes, right? I would know.”

You could feel yourself shudder, the over stimulation from your orgasm leaving your pussy raw and sensitive. Moira’s long nails treading along the lips of your cunt was enough to force another one out of you-a short and pathetic squirt of cum that fell into Moira’s open palm like a going away present. “M-Moira…”

Moira had a grip on your lapels in a second, dragging you off the bench even if your legs could barely support you. Being on the floor seemed to be where you belonged, Moira agreeing with rampant enthusiasm. You weren’t let down as much as dropped onto the cold marble, bare legs and cunt still out and aching as Moira stood before you.

“I have another request I need you to fill for me, dear.”

“Another?” You asked, head spinning before it could catch up with the tumble dryer that was replacing your speech.

Moira gripped the back of your hair, sharp nails pulling against your scalp as she yanked you forward, your lips inches away from a dick that reeked of your pussy. “I say you get to work soon”

Not having many other options, you complied, taking in the cock until you could taste nothing but rubber on your tongue. Moira tugged your hair again to cue you jerking your head back and forth, the fluids from your own pussy now filling your filthy, desperate mouth.

“I wish you could see yourself. You could probably choke at the rate your taking me in,” Moira cooed. “But I suppose that wouldn’t be the worse way to die.”

She emphasized her statement by pushing her hips forward, the strap on punching the back of your throat. You’d cough if you had enough air entering your lips and you settled for a few frantic puffs out of your nostrils as you continued your…errand.

This was so incredibly humiliating. You had swooped into Talon for the sake of a mission that was tanked the second you walked through the door.

You just needed to get your information and bolt as soon as a window of opportunity was available. You were a covert agent that worked for no middle man, could cover your tracks better than anyone, and yet whatever evidence you would likely be able to clean up with some acid and elbow grease was oozing all over a silicone cock. You were like a dog in heat, hopelessly slurping around a dick that was only Moira’s via a pair of straps.

You can’t even tell if Moira comes, pulling the cock out and watching you pant and drool yourself into a puddle. The satisfaction of seeing a pathetic spy stopped in their tracks was enough of a high for her.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, granting yourself as much dignity as someone with their pants around their ankles can have. Moira doesn’t speak for what feels like too long, a hand soon cupping your chin and pulling you up to where your noses touched.

“ _Is mise do mhamaí, anois_ ,” Damn. Can’t offer a witty comeback if you have no idea what the fuck she’s saying. So you only nodded, earning you an equally reassuring and patronizing pat on the head. “ _Cailín maith_.”

She let go of your chin and walked out, fake cock tucked back into her slacks as if nothing happened. Before stepping out the door to her lab she stopped abruptly. “Oh, and this is yours.”

Between two long fingers was your key chain, your flash drive dangling against her knuckles. Where did she get that? You retraced your steps despite how dizzy your head felt and recalled you made the sloppy mistake of leaving it with Sombra. Was she the one who exposed you or was just playing matchmaker? Not something you wanted to think about too intently.

“Y-You’re letting me have this back?”

“Of course,” Moira said. “Unlike you, I’m not a thief. Sombra, maybe, but she was kind enough to bring this back to you. Awfully polite of her.”

Was Moira really letting you off scotch free? She’d let her position and organization hang in jeopardy just like that? You barely knew each other and you didn’t know whether to be flattered or confused by the gesture.

“Uh…thank you.” You said meekly, but Moira had already disappeared.

* * *

It appeared as though you and Moira arranged a sort of silent treaty the day before. You were out of Talons’ base and in one your of many safe houses somewhere on the far end of London before nightfall and had a few extra hours of jetlag to blame for why you were up still thinking about it.

You contacted your client earlier, assuring them that the deed was done and you expected your pay before the week ended. Consulting your key chain, you unhooked your flash drive and inserted it into the USB of your computer, waiting for the files to process. You probably overdid it on the snooping but you aimed to please and their might be some extra figures waiting for you if you had some more goodies to offer.

If your anonymous customer was using the tech for their own nefarious plot or just wanted a heads up on the enemy was beyond your understanding or care. As far as anyone was concerned, you didn’t even exist.

Your laptop chimed and you dialed in the passwords without fail, watching the documents that should have been for Talon agent eyes only fill up your screen. Another job well done. In and out without a sound. You were almost getting too good at this…“Huh?”

This couldn’t had been it. Not possible. You’d seen the documents, the files, the miles and miles of data and blueprints you only assumed your client could decode. This wasn’t exactly the trade off they would be anticipating, unless they had a thing for tasteful nudity.

You weren’t sure what to expect beneath that neon coat Sombra was always flaunting but it did a good job concealing the subtle breasts and long legs of a hacker who clearly not only was working a runner’s body but sped through your flash drive when you foolishly took the Pacimari gag seriously.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Screwed over by some casual conversation? What kind of spy were you? You’d fire yourself if it were possible but instead you’d drink and degrade yourself into a pile of shame until the hangover wiped your memory.

The one single file that wasn’t a gloriously high-resolution PNG was a video, thumbnail obscured in the same encroaching darkness that was flooding your thoughts. Hand shaking, you let your finger tap the file open.

You were greeted to a (fully dressed) Sombra, smirking about as hard as you were glowering at your screen. The hue of lava lamps and soft purples illuminated her face in the otherwise black room she occupied, almost drawing attention to what appeared to be old gang tattoos crisscrossing along her face. A skull, to be precise. How fitting.

“Hola, carnala! Enjoy my little collection? It’s okay to admit it.”

A monologue? Seriously. “You spies all think the same. You get in, you get out, you think you can pull the wool over our eyes, but deep down you know you never had the guts to really do anything nasty-to get down and dirty. That’s why you work alone, right? So no one will be there to be disappointed in you once you screw up. I’d call you noble if I knew you weren’t a coward.”

Fuck. Fuck you. Fuck you Sombra. “Fuck you!”

“You’re just a glitch in the system, chika.” Sombra said. “But I do hope getting your crush to fuck you was enough of a trade off. We at Talon just love to spoil our double agents.” This can’t be real. This couldn’t be real. You were gonna puke.

“I wish I could see your face right now. That is if you aren’t already touching yourself. It’s okay if you are. I’m quite the looker, aren’t I? Maybe we can trade after this, like pen pals.” Sombra said, moving to undo her clothing. “Gotta admit I’m a little jealous, though. I really thought we hit it off.”

Despite the piss burning anger that was dying your face red, you had to admit the view wasn’t the worst part of this. Without the jacket, Sombra wore what appeared to be a tight body suit, coursing with cybernetics and purple highlights that hugged each and every curve of her chest and toned stomach. She was like a walking mainframe beneath that thing and yet what was really pulling your attention away from the display was the trinket around her neck. Hanging from a chain was your prized Pachimari toy, right between Sombra’s tits like a tacky trophy. “No…no no…”

“See something you like?

Sombra leaned back in her chair and spread her legs, the image of her bare pussy still burned into your mind as you watched it be tended to by her fingers. Working in little circles, her breath hitched, tossing her head back just for show. “We’re gonna have a lot of fun together, intern.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- - please consult me on my twitter @maidmeta if you're interested in a commission


	2. Russian Bear Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mistep during Zarya's mission causes her to end up in the hands of a loathed hacker and her equally nefarious scientist ally, but perhaps this was just the thing Zarya needed to releive some unresolved sexual frustration.

A harrowing truth is Zarya didn’t get to fuck anymore. She’d had partners, nothing too serious, but even the one-night stands in between her debuts at the Olympics spiced things up. She had quite the catalogue to sort through at that; other athletes varying from lithe and slender runners to weightlifters as bulky and tall as she was to fans of varying physiques that perceived her as an idol or just eye candy. Either was fine and a lucky few would get the chance to have a personal one-on-one with the famous 512 herself. But ever since the Omnic Crisis swept in and she had to trade in the weight of her deadlifts for that of a massive canon, the toll didn’t just wear on her physically and mentally, but took a massive drag to her libido.

And the real bummer was Zarya didn’t have much time for sex given her position, no colleagues up for a casual hook up or the many agents that went in and out of a revolving door that impressed with her build and strategy, or at least well-trained not to. She couldn’t say her work load was as heavy with the war out of the way, but there were still responsibilities to attend to, even if it was nothing short of being a hitman or bodyguard. Anything for the cash she couldn’t make as a professional athlete any more, anything to keep humanity away from the brink of another war. That was always what it boiled down to in the end: keeping innocents out of harm.

Not much time for hook ups when your reputation as an athlete was casted aside to instead be the face of Russia’s safety. That relatable touch and charm she had in her weight lifting days was still there, evident in what few interviews she could do and the talks she had with everyday citizens, and yet there was a certain detachment lingering there. Being loved was fine, being respected even better, but neither of those things seemed to aid in Zarya’s need to have a good fuck again. That most definitely shouldn’t had been a priority and yet the distractions and temptations kept coming at the worst possible moments.

Zarya tried not to masturbate often, finding it mediocre to the real thing, and yet when she got in these sort of moods, she couldn’t find any better way to relieve the stress and clear her head. Hiring a prostitute could raise suspension and going into a sex shop or a strip club would raise just as many eyebrows, forcing Zarya to result to some old fashion personal time with her two new friends pointy and middle who were frequent visitors to her impatient pussy. It was here that she truly got to delve into the corners of the world wide web. She was no internet junkie, only ever logging on for basic info and a few protein rich recipes, so going out of her way to look into websites no God-fearing woman like herself would ever brush shoulders with was its own rush.

She saw now why the younger generation had gotten so hooked: all this information, all these images and videos and stories and scandals to explore and hardly protected. Zarya would always wipe it clean from her tablet, phone, or computer as soon as possible, more so to keep her guilt in check than for safety.

But the main issue with being sex-starved wasn’t the need to excessively masturbate or even fuck a stranger, it was the sort of vulnerability it gave her in the middle of more important affairs. When you were horny, you wanted nothing more than to take care of just how horny you were.

And thinking about fucking was not a thought you wanted clouding your head when off on a mission. Receiving a good rim job should have been the last thing on her mind when she adjusted herself off on a base that it was said a few Talon soldiers had infiltrated. And maybe, possibly, those thoughts shouldn’t had been still circling her head as she was assaulted by the cybernetic grip of purple code she had grown too familiar with and knocked out cold with a swift blow to the head.

Unbeknownst to her kidnapper, and even Zarya herself, being taken to a place as secluded as Talon HQ was the perfect, no-string-attached hook up spot.  

“Wakey, wakey…” A familiar voice sing-songed, luring Zarya out of the daze the hit had thrown her into. Whatever had struck her before wasn’t enough to draw blood or even form a bruise, but she could still feel the fading pressure of something blunt and crude there before. Oddly enough, that was the perfect descriptor for the woman Zarya had the misfortune of being eye to eye with right now.

A smirk spread over a pair of plum colored lips, a small mole on her cheek highlighting smooth brown skin and pencil thin eyebrows leading to an elaborate mohawk, a half shaven head being the only practical option for a number of cybernetic implants glowing faintly in the dark room. “Hola, mi hermosa! You took quite a hit there.”

Zarya tried to adjust to what little light was inside the room, turning her head to see the room she was occupying. It was small and dank and dark, likely some sort of interrogation room with only enough space to occupy a handful of people. Of course, she was the one strapped down to a chair with not one but two people as her dedicated tormenters that evening.

The other woman is someone Zarya’s never seen before. Contrasting Sombra’s small and lean physique, this one was as tall as she was thin with angular features and short hair contrasting the long and distinctly feminine look of nails that had no business being that long. Zarya had very little knowledge on the Talon agent infrastructure, though it was a fair guess to assume the woman held some sort of pivotal position. It was mostly in her stance, hands behind her back and a raised chin. Clothing reminiscent of a mantis dipped in black ink was her preferred attire-some sort of high tech suit unlike the coat Sombra wore more for aesthetic than function. As to what the giant tubes circling her neck and leading to some type of pack were a mystery, but even the woman’s name was beyond Zarya’s field of understanding.

“Glad you showed up in time, Moira.” Sombra said, hands clapping again enthusiastically. “Pretty good catch, huh?”

The woman looked unimpressed, her eyebrow-likely something natural instead of the strange metal implants in her forehead-quirking right beneath the single silver mask catching what little light was in the room. “This is what you called me in for? You’re lucky I was just getting off the dropship when you rung up my comms.”

“No, no you’ll like this!” Sombra said, as if Zarya were some sort of show and tell project. “What we have here is Aleksandra Zaryanova, one of the main lines of defense and local celebrities of Russia. Kinda sorta Katya Volksya’s right hand man. Okay, now you can be impressed.”

Moira’s expression didn’t change though she did offer a supportive nod. “I see,”

“And there just might be a potential lab rat somewhere in there for you,” Sombra added. “She’s not just some big bad muscle freak, she’s the strongest woman on Earth. On Earth! That’s wild.”

That statement seemed to pique Moira’s interest. “The _strongest_ woman on Earth?”

“So she claims,” Sombra added.  

“I’m not exactly up to date on sports or whatever it is you do to achieve such an aloft goal-”

“Nothing artificial, ma’am.” Zarya said tersely, adjusting her position despite her bindings insisting she do otherwise.

Moira laughed, something short and dry yet self-satisfied. “It’s a pity. Having to leave behind your little games to defend your country. No trophies or medals, just less dead bodies.”

“Spare me the commentary,” Zarya said. “Anyone associated with Talon is an enemy to Volkskya and myself. I’m more than willing to give that up for their safety.”

Sombra snickered, barely talking above a whisper to comment, “She’s like the chick’s puppy dog, I swear.”

“Katya Volkskya?” Moira said. “With all the mechs she has protecting her cooperation, I must say you’re an interesting line of defense.”

“For more personal affairs,” Zarya said. “I can be very persuasive.”

It would usually be at this point that Zarya would confidently cock her canon or pose in such a way that revealed an impressive amount of muscle, but an incredibly firm stare was all she could manage. Speaking of stares, it was only when she was locked onto Moira’s that she noticed the woman’s peculiar eyes. One blue as day and the other a piercing red that rivaled the fiery hairdo.

Moira curled her lips up in what Zarya assumed was supposed to be a smile. “I see why you like her so much. Quite a character.”

“I know, right? She’s so funny!”

“Well you know how Talon feels about dragging in prisoners. Have you alerted anyone about this?”

Sombra pouted. “No,”

Moira furrowed her brow, earning a groan from Sombra. “ _Ughh_ , I never get to have my own prisoners! What, you think I can’t handle it or something? I have to be a big bad council member to bring in my own stray dogs?”

“It’s more a matter of _what_ you do with your prisoners, dear. You can’t just take anyone in for your amusement. We have standards, you know?”

“But…?” Sombra’s grin was wide, taking a few quick steps up to Moira with a hopeful look. Moira cleared her throat, avoiding the puppy dog look she was being mulled down by. “I admit that an ex-athlete in alliance with Russia’s most powerful woman isn’t the worst choice.”

Sombra quickly embraced Moira in a hug, nuzzling her face into the woman’s chest on the tips of her toes. “Ha, I knew it! Maybe you can get a seat for me up there with the big boys some day?”

“Not likely,” Moira said, pushing Sombra off nonchalantly. She turned her attention back to Zarya, changing the subject. “Aleksandra are you with Overwatch by any chance?”

“Overwatch,” Zarya quirked a brow at the suggestion. “No such affiliation.”

“Russian Defense Forces, mostly.” Sombra added, fingers trailing over a few personal screens hovering in front of her. “And yet you still came crawling back to Katya’s call like a loyal pet.”

“Because she was threatened,” Zarya interjected sharply. “Unlike you, I see my affiliates as more than pawns for my games.”

“That’s not the point, senorita.” Sombra’s smirk curled up the side of her face, already anticipating her next threat. “You going in rouge like this just makes things a hell of a lot easier. If you had any trackers or backup crew on you, it’s not like they would be any use. But it’s like I always say, leave yourself a back door.”

“Oh, what a predicament,” Moira said, hand resting on her chest. “If you had answered this Recall I’ve heard so much about or recruited by now, there would be the slightest opportunity of a rescue party. No friends to accompany you on this little journey, Aleksandra? Sloppy, sloppy- _Ack!_ ”

A splatter of drool struck Moira right between the eyes. Sombra had to hold a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud while Moira simply whipped the spit away from with the back of her hand and flicked it away.

“And here I thought you Russians were people of civility. I suppose I was wrong.”

“Untie me and perhaps I can formally apologize.”

“Not likely,” Moira said, her eyes growing cold. “I just can’t help the feeling that Miss Zaryanova would be an excellent choice for some tests I want to run. A small project I’m conducting on animal and human biology.”

“You’ve already gone through all your rabbits?”

“They’re sleeping,” Moira’s eyes didn’t once drift away from Zarya, a smile quirking up the side of her thin mouth as she contemplated the kind of hell she could put a spit taking Russian through. “Don’t worry, Zarya. I have enough anesthesia to last you an hour.”

“Whoa, _whoa!_ I didn’t drag her here to be pulled into your lab yet!” Sombra said, a rare sort of protectiveness to her voice as she raised a hand between the two of them. “I swear, you can’t go five minutes without trying to shove needles into people.”

Moira sneered. “But you said...Fine, then what did you have in mind? Why else would you call me in here?”

“Yes, what are you aiming for, Sombra?” Zarya added, hoping the answer wouldn’t fair worse than having herself dissected. Sombra looked between the two of them, stepping just a little closer and leaning against the chair Zarya was strapped to.

“I’ve been watching you, _preciosa_.”

“What else is new?”

“More specific things, to be honest. You know what’s funny about the internet? No matter how much you delete your search history, no matter how much you clear your cookies, empty your recycling bin-it’s like it never went away. That’s my favorite thing about the world wide web-always connected, always remembering.”

Zarya swallowed hard, her breath going tremble. “W-What are you implying? Trying to pry into government secrets again?”

“I was at first once Katya put the hit on me but I’ve gotten my fill of that nonsense,” Sombra ran her hand down Zarya’s face, stopping at where her scar met her cheek. “I’ve been more interested in you _, mami_. What you like, what you shop for…your taste in porn.”

Zarya was speechless, not even able to conjure up the forced bravado she was maintaining for so long. Just a few words and she could feel herself cracking, completely exposed and vulnerable. Sombra perched herself in Zarya’s lap and waved her hand over the air, a series of screens illuminated in purple spreading themselves before them. Every little visual being more achingly familiar than the last: bondage so hard it left rope marks, a close up of a woman’s ass as she was being spanked over a table, a cam recorder split in two as a woman jerked herself off, the look of ecstasy on her face as her semen splattered across the lens. Zarya knew for a fact anything looked up was immediately cleared from her history, any downloaded video whipped from her hard drive and yet, Sombra still managed to get her grimy little hands on it.

“And you wanna see my favorite one?”

She whispered, her lips close to Zarya’s ear as she popped up an image between her fingers. A piece of footage that Zarya admitted to clicking on more times than she’d like to admit. The title was too long and garbled to bother reading aloud, the product of one of those clickbait bots who shunted out smut depending on your recent searches. The video that was playing on a nauseating loop was that of a Puerto Rican woman with tits bigger than an already giant ass, bucking herself on a strap on. It be any old generic porn if it weren’t for the impressive display of tattoos across her body and a half-shaven head leading to a frohawk.

“And here I thought my look was original,” Sombra said. “But I guess slutty suicide girls will do it for you, huh? Is it the hair? It’s the hair, isn’t it?”

Zarya spoke through her teeth. “What do you want, Sombra?”

“I wanna help,” Sombra replied, minimizing the footage with a snap of her fingers. “This is only a week’s worth of data. Three month’s worth and I’m sure Moira and I will start smelling it.”

Moira was only standing and staring, maintaining her composure despite the flurry of multiple lewd images that were circling the room earlier, her expression just a bit flustered.

“Clearly you’ve got some sexual frustrations to work out. Not only that, but you have a type.” Sombra cupped Zarya’s chin, her smiling especially cruel. “You don’t have to settle for jacking it to imposters. The real deal is right here, sitting your lap, feeling how wet you are through her leggings…”

Moira finally spoke, “Sombra, you didn’t inform me about this little detail.”

Sombra continued to offer more condescending caresses to Zarya’s slack jawed face. “I don’t tell a lot of people a lot of things. I knew you wouldn’t agree if I dropped it on you during the mission so-uh …Surprise!”

Moira sighed, shaking her head. “Unbelievable,”

“Don’t think Zarya doesn’t wanna fuck you too! You know that one actress I always say you look like?”

“Please don’t,”

“Zarya here is a big fan. Aren’t you, _corazon_? But I admit Moira has way better shower scenes.”

* * *

“Don’t you wanna join in?” Sombra said.

“I’ll watch for now,” Moira replied. “I’ve always been a visual learner.”

Sombra rolled her eyes as she began to undress herself, the nonsense of an outfit apparently having a simple zipper and a few strips of velcro to undo. She and Moira had saved themselves for last for getting undressed, having stripped Zarya of her clothing before. The only thing left on the Russian’s body was a very complex, and apparently very expensive, cyber bondage that kept her arms behind her back and her mouth shut via a ball gag. All some sort of elaborate code only Sombra could access from the corners of the dark net and saved specifically for this occasion. Must have been important if she was willing to fork over real cash instead of cheating the system.

It left Zarya vulnerable and spread out on the hard floor of the room, her pussy already quivering from the rush of both the exposure and promise of being fucked the way she’d wanted for so long. Zarya was ashamed, of course, but she just couldn’t let her pride do the talking this time. She was already figured out, already a depraved porn addict to any onlooker, and leaving Sombra with that kind of leverage would be far more detrimental. She’d gladly take her chances and get a month’s worth of satisfaction while she was at it.

Sombra threw her coat and leggings aside, shaking out her hair with the tips of her long nails. “You’re in for a real treat, Zarya. I promise I’m way better than that skank you were getting off to.”

She pushed Zarya down on their back and leaned over, her eyes immediately fixated on the Russian’s crotch.

“Oh, we got ourselves a blondie!” Sombra ran a thumb along Zarya’s clit. “And here I thought you’d at least dye your pubes pink. Don’t worry, I can help you with that.”

Sombra continued her little observation, seeming to find a new thing to ogle each time.

“You got some fat tits, mi hermosa. Feels nice to let them out, eh?” Sombra’s hands made quick work of her current plaything, kneading and squeezing Zarya’s ample chest. “You someone’s mommy yet, Mother Russia? You’d probably have enough milk to feed a village.”

Following up the statement, Sombra’s mouth was around Zarya’s tit, slurping around an erect pink nipple with rampant enthusiasm. Her fingers continued to move in and out of Zarya’s pussy, the thrusts just bordering on too fast for Zarya to offer anything beyond moans and yelps that overlaid one another behind her gag. Despite just how rough Sombra’s fingers were, Zarya still found herself bucking her hips into the motion, up to the knuckle if she could. “Whoa, _ve más despacio!_ Let me take the reins, okay?”

Zarya only offered a low and desperate groan, sounding all the more pathetic and whiny with the gag muffling her voice. The smaller woman smirked, giving Zarya’s a quick peck on the neck. “I spoil you. You know that, right?”

Sombra continued to finger Zarya’s pussy, making little circles and pinching the nub here and there. “Fuck, you’re wet. Got a lot of cum saved up for me, baby? You’ll be drained dry by the time we’re done with you…”

Another lick, this time starting from Zarya’s neck to the shell of her ear. “Maybe Moira will keep you strung up in her lab and we can do this more often. I’ve always wanted a stay at home wife. I just hope she doesn’t fuck with your anatomy too much,” Sombra’s grip on Zarya’s breast became rougher playing with the heavy tits on the tips of her nails. “I wanna keep these intact.”  

Sombra’s hand left Zarya’s pussy and she moved over to straddle her. “I know its cliché, but I love tits. Give me a nice jiggle while I’m fucking you, kay?”

Sombra was ruthless, grinding her pussy roughly against Zarya’s to get her fill as quickly as possible. Rotating her hips in time to create a friction that went round and round Zarya’s touch-starved cunt. “Mmm, _mami_ …”

Sombra wasn’t even looking at her, her violet gaze fixated on the sway of Zarya’s breasts. Probably for the best, Zarya thought. The shame of knowing she let the enemy hacker who threatened her country’s leader literally fuck her over was enough, eye contact only making the shower she’d have to take after this a lot longer and hotter. Sombra gripped at her own tits as she did this, impressively sized even with the supposed jealousy she had towards Zarya’s own breasts. She kept murmuring to herself during, mostly in Spanish interrupted by weak and tremble moans. “Ahh… _Ahhh_!”

Sombra’s orgasm was quick but not dry, flushing herself against Zarya’s body until her come was out and forming a steady drip onto Zarya’s skin. Sombra panted, letting herself collect her breath against the warmth of Zarya’s chest. “Ai… _eso es lo que necesitaba.”_

She got up eventually, rubbing the sweat from her brow with a dazed smile. “Guess I couldn’t last as long. I did touch myself a lot thinking about this, babe. I’m gonna take five.”

Sombra gestured towards Moira who still sat silently in the chair a little away from them. “Your turn, doc.”

Moira still kept quiet, standing up and making her way towards them.

“Hope you aren’t tired yet, _mi alma_.” Sombra teased. “Moira wants to play with you now. And if you thought I was rough…” Sombra did a short whistle before chuckling, excusing herself to watch the show.

Zarya can’t even hope to offer any commentary, the ball gag only permitting her a few lines of drool down her cheeks that would otherwise been a mile-long list of words her Russian mother would have slapped her for. But she hated to admit, much better to be gagged than grant the two woman the satisfaction of hearing her moan and plead. She had the most _embarrassing_ habit of rambling in her native tongue when she was worked up like this, as if the peak of her arousal smushed her entire vocabulary into one clusterfuck of phrases she didn’t have the dignity to translate.

“I can’t say I’ve seen a body like yours in some time,” Moira said as she mounted Zarya, her warm breath ghosting over Zarya’s ear. “I’ve built muscle and blood and bone from scratch and not a single one has yet to see the light outside my lab. I thought I may never be able to rebuild the building blocks of human strength without a full body shutdown. But you…you’ve inspired me.”

“ _Mmph-!_ ”

“So strong and yet still maintaining your natural body mass,” Moira trailed her hands down Zarya’s body-cupping her breasts before feeling along the slight pudge of belly her erect cock was leaking precome onto. “I’d say diet and physical labor if I was a stickler for rules, but I think we all know we can push you _further_ …”

Sometime during her monologue, Moira’s hips began to move against Zarya’s. Her cock was hard enough to be twitching, begging to be shoved down into any hole Zarya had available. Zarya’s body still felt sensitive from Sombra’s session and the thought of having Moira’s sex penetrating her made her already overworked pussy throb. And yet she still spread her legs a little wider, anticipating the feel of a real cock after only feeling the penetration of her own fingers for so long. Finally. _Release_. Moira hardly needed any lubricant, Zarya’s pussy wet enough to ease her way in with little struggle, the friction between her dick and Zarya’s wet sex already sparking liquid fire in Zarya’s gut.

She bit down on her gag, eyes squeezing shut as Moira thrusted into her, the pace of her hips easily as brutal as Sombra’s. Moira held onto Zarya’s hips, long nails digging into the skin as she panted and pushed her way in an out of a welcome cunt. “Fuck…ah-”

“Mm, I already had my turn and you’re still making me jealous.” Through the limited view Zarya had from the ground, she could make out Sombra sitting in one of the chairs, fingers deep in her own pussy. “Don’t eat all my leftovers yet, _novio_.”

“Once you’ve earned it,” Moira said, voice hoarse but not once breaking her rhythm. “Don’t think I do this for just anyone.”

Moira’s hand moved to push up Zarya’s thigh, permitting herself even easier access. She was looking down now, watching with satisfaction as Zarya drooled and blushed beneath her. Zarya barely even notices when the ball gag is plucked wetly out of her mouth, the digital straps disappearing into purple code in Moira’s hand. She discarded the toy as if it weren’t a piece of highly prized BDSM tech and closed the distance between them, grip now tight along the bulge of Zarya’s biceps.

“She’s an amateur, really.” Moira whispered sharply against Zarya’s lips, her Irish brogue growing thicker as her heat became more intense. “I don’t think she knows I do all the real heavy lifting here. Always teasing, not enough punishment. I know you can take it, Aleksandra.”

Before Zarya could utter a response, Moira began to eagerly explore the now open mouth. Her tongue didn’t leave a single surface untouched and a line of drool remained when she pulled away. “You didn’t kiss me back and yet you’re still better than Angela.”

Moira continued thrusting, her pace quickening and rocking Zarya against the motion. Moira was as thin beneath the suit as Zarya expected, and yet there was a hidden strength behind those long arms and small waist that had Zarya rocking back against the motions being sent into her.

Zarya finished shortly after Moira, her come looking like a pathetic squirt compared to the load Moira emptied out into her. Moira let out a long and satisfied sigh, pulling out with a line of fluid dripping from the head. “It’s been so long. I really should be thanking you for the service you’ve provided me.”

Moira crawled off of her only to focus her attention on knotting her fingers in Zarya’s hair.

“On your hands and knees, pet. Let me look at you.” She commanded, Moira’s grip forcing her into the position with little effort. Zarya had built her stamina through years and years of strength training. She could rip the arms off the biggest mechs if she wanted to, could rework the gun off a tank in no time, and yet something about all this made her body feel gelatinous. Her head spun, eyes still stinging with tears and sweat as she tried to keep her balance like a show dog ready for inspection.

“Your body truly is a marvel,” Moira said softly, her long nails trailing over the tense and wet skin of Zarya’s thick shoulders. “None of that deformity I see so often with my misfires. This is natural, real. Very much to my liking.”

Sombra scoffed. “Can you not be a nerd for five seconds?”

Moira rolled her eyes. “Quite a juvenile word to describe me, dear. I’m more of an intellectual, I like to discover new things in any environment.”

“Fine, if you like learning so much…” Zarya heard bare feet against the hard floor, approaching quickly.

“Hey Zarya, can you tell the class the Russian word for ‘slut’?” Sombra said, foot pressing down on the small of Zarya’s back. Zarya was still taken aback by how weak her body felt, nearly crumbling to the floor from what was merely a tiny push by the much smaller woman. Sweat ran down her nose and chin as she uttered, “ _Shlyukha_ …” to a mostly indifferent Sombra.

“ _Shhu_ …lyka…?” Sombra said, placing way too much emphasis on the wrong syllables. “Damn, and you’d think I’d know Russian by now.”

“Haven’t you decoded Russian mainframes before?” Moira asked.

“Yeah, but I usually have my translator do all that work for me. Besides, you know I just care about the ones and zeroes,” Sombra rolled her foot a few times, getting a feel of Zarya’s straining back muscles. “What about you? Got any language lessons for us?”

Moira shrugged, leaning down to grip Zarya by the cheeks. “Repeat after me, Aleksandra. Can you say, _‘cushlamachree’_?”

Zarya swallowed heavily, trying to speak through the grip puckering her lips out. “Cah…shuh-ma-ah..”

“You’re not even trying,” Moira said, shaking her head. “Let’s try something more your speed: _Tá mé bréagach_.”

For whatever reason, Sombra chuckled, muffling it with her palm. Zarya tried to ignore it, complying with Moira’s request.

“T-Tahh, me bregau..”

“ _Is breá liom a bheith ina bhréagach_.”

“Is bre liam a beth-.”

“ _Rugadh liom a bheith ina bhréagach_.”

Zarya groaned audibly, trying to memorize the mess of Gaelic Moira was force feeding her. “Rug uh…lion a b-beth-“

Sombra’s laughter couldn’t be contained, arms wrapped around her waist as she let out painful guffaws. Moira let go of Zarya’s face, giving Sombra a knowing look. “Sombra, please, you’re interrupting.”

“Sorry, my translator’s having a field day with this. Damn, and I thought I had a dirty mouth.”

“It’s all our little friend will need to know while she’s keeping us company,” Moira said, and Zarya noticed the woman’s cock become hard again. Zarya tried not to whimper at the visual, clamping her thighs together even if she knew Sombra was greeted with the image of an aching cunt. “Unless you have any other words to say, dear.”

Zarya felt her body tense as much as it would allow, trying to look down at the cold floor and not the erect cock that she so desperately wanted between her lips. This entire past few hours, every single second of it, should have been absolute misery. She should have been trying to find a way out, calling reinforcements as soon as possible, and yet this was the best rush she’s felt in months. To not just be fucked silly but humiliated? It made her so desperate, she wanted…she wanted…“More.”

“What was that?”

“More…I want more. Please, _pozhaluysta…pozhaluysta!”_ Zarya felt a sudden burst of stamina overwhelm her, using what strength she had to rush towards Moira’s twitching cock, burrowing her nose against the red public hair and freckled balls she was _this close_ to licking. Nuzzling and wining helplessly as she stuck her ass out like an animal desperate for breeding. _“Sdelay menya svoyey shlyukhoy. Poymay menya. Trakhay menya, pozhaluysta!”_

Sombra was the one to blush this time, her translator picking up every word and instead of a laugh at Zarya’s expense, a flushed expression dyeing her brown skin a faint red. Moira, seemingly oblivious to the plea, offered Zarya an encouraging pat. “Well that’s certainly a very creative way of admitting that you like is.”

* * *

Sombra and Moira weren’t exactly the best people to be around at your most vulnerable. One a tech genius who deliberately exploited the secrets and dark truths of her victims and the other a world renowned geneticist who saw a very thin line between scientific progress and the sadistic pleasure of wrecking the human body. So it was no surprise that two women of two different types of crazy came to the shared conclusion. And the least crazy person in the room-and Zarya damn well hoped it was her-obliged to such a foul idea.

A meat hook for the torture that should had been happening in this room in the first place worked as Zarya’s hanger, Sombra’s special pack of digital sex toys apparently coming with a pair of handcuffs. The position dangled her above the floor for both Sombra and Moira’s convenience, entirely vulnerable with her arms above her head. Moira’s cock was being pumped already, gearing the woman up for another round and a chance inside of Zarya’s ass. Sombra is oddly enough the more composed one, no prep, just a knowing smirk gracing her features as she closed the distance between them, fingers feeling along Zarya’s stomach before slipping down to the real prize-a look on her face that said she won.

Zarya is between the two of them-two terrorists, two crooks who had no business treating her body like some sort of plaything. And yet she still wanted this, so very badly. Others would have been far too nice, too gentle, not given her body the endurance test it truly needed.

Moira’s in the back, cock burrowing in and out of Zarya’s ass at a rapid pace. She wrapped her two spindly arms around Zarya’s torso as leverage, the gesture a little too comforting for such an obscene act. And in the front is Sombra, someone Zarya already learned to hate until it inverted into unbridled lust. Aside from eating up the scene of Zarya’s blissed expression as an Irishwoman’s cock penetrates her, Sombra makes work of a dripping cunt still sensitive from before. The pad of Sombra’s thumb got comfortable around Zarya’s engorged clit, rubbing in little circles and relishing in the fevered panting and puffs of air.

“She just loves being fucked by you, O’Deorain. You may as well give her a cream sandwich to go with her cream pie.”

Moira chuckled, hitching her cock up higher into Zarya’s ass. “That can be arranged.”

Sombra was the one to get on her knees now, holding Zarya’s hips in place as she lapped at her pussy. The act seemed to excite her enough that she excused one of her hands to play with her own cunt, fingering herself in time with the licking and sucking.

With the amount of stimulation Zarya had received before, she was coming in seconds. How she managed to have enough left to give Sombra a decent splatter against her tongue was its own mystery and yet she still found herself bucking her hips forward to invite Sombra to do it again. Moira had finished soon after, draining the rest of her cock into Zarya’s ass, nails gripping along the woman’s stomach as she pumped herself dry. With too much dignity to collapse on the spot, she instead caught her breath with her back against the wall, a dazed smile on her face.

“Sombra,” she said. “Is there even a sliver of a chance this will be made public? I don’t think either me or Aleksandra would appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry,” Sombra said, pressing her lips firmly against Zarya’s before pulling away. “I don’t always kiss and tell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- - please consult me on my twitter @maidmeta if you're interested in a commission


	3. Arnab

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moira receives some bad news that her budgeting will be cut short but Commander Amari has a suggestion about how to keep them both happy.

It’s the smell of smoke billowing from Moira’s lab that catches her attention. Down to the cloth bits of her uniform, she stomps heavily with only a cropped turtleneck and low-rise leggings, severely underdressed and yet too antsy to consider pulling on her lab coat and slacks just to be presentable. She was at the door of her lab in just a few seconds, the door opening to reveal Commander Amari occupying a lone chair. Legs crossed, expression neutral, a lit cigarette in her hand and a small glass ash tray probably leaving a smudge on the counter.

“Ah, you’re here early. How did the mission go, Dr. O’Deorain?”

“No comment,” Moira said, stepping inside to see mostly everything still in place. Ana may be a self-entitled harridan, but she wasn’t a thief or slob. That was one of few things she was willing to admit. But that didn’t excuse her smoking in a strictly no smoking area. She wasn’t even near a window.

“Do you mind putting that out? I don’t want to trigger the fire alarm.”

“As if you don’t at least once a week,” Ana replied. “You and your little creations are really starting to wear down on our budgeting, so Jack wanted me to have a chat with you before you made any further decisions.”

Moira quirked her brow. “Are you insisting on monitoring my work…again?”

“Just for the meantime,” Ana said. “I promise, it’ll only be a couple papers to sign and at least a few times a month, you drop by to let me know what you’re doing. If you don’t mutate a rat, I’ll give you a sticker.”

“How tempting, but I decline.”

“As if you had a choice, Dr. O’Deorain.”

“I like to think my work should be kept between me and my proper associates,” Moira said, knowing fully well her proper associates consisted entirely of herself. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like you to leave.”

“Oh no, no, I’m not done here yet. If you like it or not, we’re starting our new protocol today.”

“I have nothing planned for the evening, Commander.”

“You don’t say? Then please tell a lowlife high school dropout like me what all this is.” Ana pointed towards the whiteboard a little towards the end of the lab that was littered with some more recent notes. Moira hadn’t cleared it off before being requested to go on a mission a few hours ago and though the ideas were still fresh, she highly doubted they’d be more than stray scribbles. It was merely an observation she’d follow up on when she had time.

“It’s nothing,” Moira insisted.

“’Human vs animal psychology’ doesn’t sound like nothing. I’m just curious, really.” Moira became gloomily aware that Ana wouldn’t stop prying until she provided more information about her project. Fair enough.

“If you must know, I was interested in understanding if the link between different generations of mammals could be traced back to our mental state. We all say we’ve descended from apes, but perhaps we can key into that ancient state of mind,” Moira said. “It’s a bit more far fetched, even for me, but since I minored in psychology, I couldn’t help but quell my interest in decoding it.”

“Strange, I don’t see any monkeys in your little zoo.”

“With your approval, perhaps I can. I’ll likely only need one to get my results, Commander.”

“Not in the budget,” Ana said. “Though we can always use what resources we have around us. Let’s do a quick test run and get this idea of yours going, okay?”

Moira rolled her eyes. “You and I both know I lack the proper equipment to make any significant progress. It wouldn’t work.”

“But don’t you like experimenting?” Ana prompted, dropping some more ash into her tray. “You’re the one always going on about ‘the truth’ and ‘the path of science’ and all that nonsense.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘nonsense’, Commander.”

“Then give me a break and do this one favor for both of us,” Ana smothered the end of her cigarette into the dish to emphasize her point. “It’ll be quick, I promise. And if I enjoy myself, maybe I’ll talk Morrison into going easy on you for the rest of the year.”

Moira sighed, starting to regret leaving her notes out in the open for onlookers to see. Her lab was one of few personal places she had to herself and of course she couldn’t trust the authority of the organization she dedicated over a year of her work towards to respect something that simple.

She made her way towards the row of cages, looking over the list of names and tags for a primary subject. “I do have a rabbit or two we can analyze. More of a prey than a predator but I suppose it’s all we have to work with.”

“Oh no, no! We won’t need any of your little pets.”

“Pardon?”

“Don’t you think psychology is more impactful when it’s human to human? Why throw a rodent in the middle and muddy the results?”

“Captain Amari-”

“I have a hypothesis, that’s all. And if I’m wrong, you can mock me for it until the end of time.”

“What a short-lived victory,” Moira walked back over to Ana. “I don’t assume you have much time left.”

“Very funny, now come closer.” Moira begrudgingly stepped closer, immediately regretting playing along with Ana’s little game. It would be in her best interest to do as the Commander said if she wanted to keep her funding in check. It would only be a second, right? Ana was no scientific mind, no real perception or true scope of her research.

“Animals don’t stand on two legs, do they?” Ana began and Moira could feel her stomach drop a little. “Sit down.”

“What?”

“I don’t like to repeat myself, _arnab_.” Ana pointed towards the floor and Moira complied, her dignity falling as low as her knees.

“This is humiliating,”

“Patience, _arnab._ ” Ana said, lightly petting Moira’s head with a calloused hand. “I think you’re forgetting I pull the strings around here.”

“As I’ve been told.” Ana’s fingers traveled from Moira’s hair, down her sharp cheekbones, to her chin, her thumb running against the skin there. Moira’s face was just a little too stiff and angular to be comparable to a rabbit’s. And that glower she was sending Ana’s way certainly didn’t help.

“Give me a smile, _arnab_. Aren’t you happy, my little rabbit?”

“Not quite.”

“I’m helping you with your experiment. I see why you like science so much, it really feels like I’m learning something.” Ana began to lightly rub Moira’s face, squishing her cheeks and offering condescending little coos.

“Sweet little _arnab_ …” Ana nuzzled her nose against Moira’s. “Feeling like a bunny yet?”

“I feel embarrassed,”

“Blushing would make you a little cuter.” Ana pinched Moira’s face, earning a yelp as she squeezed the skin there. Just a little bit of red came to Moira’s pale complexion, the freckles so well hidden along her nose and cheeks finally coming alight. “Freckly bunny? Never seen one of those before.”

“I-I’ve seen a few with multiple patterns along their fur,” Moira replied. “I suppose you could call them freckles.”

“Aww, I’d like to see one someday,” Ana said, digging in her pocket to pull out another cigarette. “But I have the sweetest little rabbit in front of me right now.”

She pulled away just to light it, her expression pleased when she saw Moira couldn’t quite bring herself to look away. Ana smirked, spreading her legs to let the growing wetness of her pussy be visible to Moira’s watching eyes. She ran her free hand against the seam of her pants, lightly teasing her cunt.

“Something about seeing you on your knees makes me very satisfied.”

Moira felt a low whine escape her throat, crawling on her hands and knees to nuzzle her long nose into Ana’s welcoming crotch. Still covered by the fabric of her pants, though the slick was evident from her suddenly hypersensitive sense of smell. Her tongue found the zipper, teasing it with her lips enough to give Ana the hint.

“Silly bunny,” Ana teased, treating Moira to a scratch behind the ear. “You’re a big girl, aren’t you? Use your words.”

“Mmm,” Was Moira’s only response, hands spreading Ana’s legs further apart to better accommodate her sudden craving. Ana almost felt like laughing, watching the usually high and mighty Moira O’Deorain literally begging on her knees, barely able to flex her impressive vocabulary in such a state.

Pretentious little shit, Ana thought, taking a long drag from her cigarette with a widening grin.  

“You know,” Ana prompted, twirling her cigarette between her fingers with expert precision, admiring as a transfixed Moira watched the smoke curl and dance around Ana’s hand. “I think I like you more as a rabbit than a scientist. You make less of a mess. You don’t want Mommy to clean up messes, do you? I’m much too old for that.”

“Of course not,” Moira said. “Though I’m not sure I can take care of myself without your help.”

“My help? Are you saying my little bunny is enjoying our game?”

“This is an experiment, right? I wanted to learn something…” The underlying control and contempt of Moira’s voice was near absent, her pitch seeming to rise a few octaves as she murmured through her words. Moira was never one for shyness and Ana had to admit it was a welcome change of pace to a lower level employee to know their place. “But I’m forgetting what it was.”

“I don’t believe rabbits are best known for their memories,” Ana said. “They’re treasures, prey, meant to be stalked and devoured by a more lethal predator. You were a predator once and I can’t say it suited you.”

Moira only nodded.

“You’re just like me, a huge flirt. You should see the way people look at you, Moira. Like you own them, like you could give them a good time…”

Ana pushed a strand of loose hair behind Moira’s ear, noticing the blush coating her features rivaling the vibrant red of her own locks. She leaned in close to Moira’s face as she took a long drag of her cigarette, blowing a heavy stream of smoke as she exhaled.

Moira fought back a cough, instead leaning into the smoke stinging her eyes and nose. “But deep down you just want someone to take care of you, huh?”

Moira’s eyes fluttered, her hands beginning to paw the fabric covering Ana’s inner thighs as a low whine escaped her throat. She nodded, lips pursed in a firm line. Ana smiled, patting Moira on the cheek.

“Need someone to be your mommy, Miss O’Deorain? I know a thing or two about that.”

Ana stood up from her seat, placing her boot against Moira’s head and pushing down hard enough to earn another whine. Moira seemed to be relishing the pressure, rubbing her thighs together to satisfy her throbbing cunt. Ana could smell Moira’s arousal already and took a steady stream of smoke into her mouth before shoving Moira’s body back with a firm but otherwise harmless kick. Moira only curled in on herself as her back struck the floor, hands running feverishly over her flushed body.

Ana chuckled, tapping the end of her cigarette to send the ashes fluttering onto O’Deorain’s stomach. “A-Ana!”

Her eyes teared up slightly as the ash left subtle burns against her skin, pulling up what was already a form fitting crop top higher as if asking for more. “Are you punishing me, Ana?”

“No, I only do this to people I like,” Ana sat down to straddle Moira to the ground, leaning over to place the hot end of her cigarette right under the geneticist’s nose. She dragged it down slowly, just above Moira’s lips, down that long neck until resting above Moira’s pubis. “And I do this to people I _really_ like.”

Without much fanfare, Ana shoved the end of her cigarette against Moira’s skin, the geneticist letting out a silent scream as Ana continued to rub the cigarette deep enough to leave a burn that would last a few days. Ana delighted in how Moira fidgeted and shifted around beneath her weight. She would have guessed Moira already came if it weren’t for how desperately Moira’s hips bucked into the smaller woman holding her down. Ana flicked her cigarette aside and treated Moira to a kiss on the neck. “You get points for good behavior. Even though you’re still a _very_ bad girl.”

“But you’re such a good mommy, Ana.” Moira’s eyes were blown wide with lust, still making little movements with her hips to catch the friction of Ana’s crotch. “You should always burn me when I misbehave.”

“Then I’ll make it a habit,” Ana said, throwing in a small push of her own hips for good measure. “So desperate for any affection, even if its someone hurting you.”

Ana crawled off Moira and ran the tip of her nails against the growing wetness of Moira’s leggings. “For now, we should take care of this mess you’ve left for me.” Ana pulled Moira’s leggings and underwear down in one grip, sticking a single finger inside her revealed cunt. “So wet for me, bunny…Let me taste you.”

Moira began to chew her finger, her foot thumping quickly against the floor as Ana explored a wet pussy. Ana’s lips were dry and rough from the smoke and old age, creating a satisfying friction that had the Commander’s mouth moist with Moira’s fluids in seconds. She licked Moira’s cunt in long strokes, feeling the geneticist shiver and stomp in ecstasy.

“Mmm _ah-!”_

“You’re loving this,” Ana said, treating Moira to a lingering kiss against her clit. “Good bunny…”

Her tongue began to explore Moira’s pussy, her nose deep into the mess of red pubic hair. She was delighted to find freckles down there as well, teasing the pale flesh with her fingers as she looked at Moira’s flushed expression with a grin. “You taste so good, little one. Mommy’s gonna spoil her favorite bunny forever.”

“P-Please,” Moira whined. “Please, Mommy.”

“As you wish,” Ana ran her tongue in long strokes against Moira’s cunt, delighting in the way the geneticist shivered and moaned. Moira was far past the point of coherency, hopelessly gripping at the floor as Ana kept her legs and pussy spread apart. She came quietly, her cum squirting out in a few quick bursts into Ana’s mouth.

Ana licked her lips clean before crawling over to give Moira a long and deep kiss, remaining drops of cum and drool smearing against her mouth. “Hmm, I think I like being the scientist here,” She said against her mouth. “How about you be a kitten next?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- - please consult me on my twitter @maidmeta if you're interested in a commission


End file.
